“Why, so you told me yesterday,” answered the Corporal reproachfully, his gloom deepening, “an’ yet here y’ are this evening lookin’ younger than ever!” “O Mus’ Doubleday,” she laughed, “’ow may that be? I were a liddle baby once, an’ looked younger then, I rackon.” “I wish,” said the Corporal bitterly—“I wish that you—no, I wish that I had been—but what’s the use o’ wishing? Only ... if you had only been a ... bit older ... if only you had——” “Aye, an’ what then, sir?” she questioned eagerly. “No matter, mam.” “But, Mus’ Doubleday, I du be a-growin’ older an’ older every day!” “Aye,” groaned the Corporal, “so am I!” “An’ yonder comes grandfer along o’ Mrs. Rose! She be rarely ’andsome, don’t ’ee think?” “So, so!” sighed the Corporal. “O Mus’ Doubleday! I’m sure she’s the rarest beauty!” “Maybe,” admitted the Corporal, “only I don’t ’appen to ha’ noticed.” “But you got eyes, sure?” “Aye, I have,” nodded the Corporal, looking at pretty Ann until she blushed again, “an’ I think I know a fair lass when I happen to see one, but ... being a man o’ forty-five winters, mam, an’ no young galli-vantin’ lad, I looks, and thinks, and says nothing.” “Why, then, Mus’ Doubleday,” sighed she, “won’t ’ee come an’ say it indoors—afore grandfer sees us?” And so they passed on, walking very close together, though the Corporal resolutely kept his hands buried in the deep side-pockets of his coat. Then Sir John arose lazily and made a great business of yawning and stretching, though keeping well in the shadow of the tree behind him, and presently sauntered along the lane to where the thick hedge opposite was pierced by a gate. Here his manner underwent a sudden change; in a flash he had vaulted the gate, and, pistol ready, crouched where he might behold the other side of this rustling hedge.... No one! And yet how should a hedge rustle so very persistently and no wind stirring? And now his quick glance saw that which answered the question beyond all doubt: the place was a tangle of lusty weeds and wild-flowers that stood very dense and lush save immediately behind the hedge, for here they showed bent and broken as by the recent passage of a heavy body, a narrow trail, following the line of hedge, a betraying track that swung off at a right angle towards the leafy solitude of the little spinney. Had baffled Murder crept that way? Did it skulk there still? Staying not to debate the point, Sir John set hand to gate and vaulted back into the lane—to the vociferous indignation of Mr. Dumbrell, for being startled by this so sudden appearance, the Aged Soul stamped and swore and shook his stick at Sir John in highly ferocious manner. “Dannel ye!” he snarled. “Will ’ee goo for tu frouden a old, aged, ancient soul as would be j’yful tu be a-diggin’ your grave for ’ee d’rackly-minute? ’Tidn’t respectful, no! Dannel ’ee twoice!” “I beg your pardon.”